


and we're jumping through worlds

by biochemprincess



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Ficlets, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 8,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biochemprincess/pseuds/biochemprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[a collection of various prompts from tumblr]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! If you follow me on tumblr, you've likely seen most of these. But I thought I'd transfer them over here too and collect them in one piece. They're not related unless otherwise stated. Please let me know what you think about it, feedback is very much appreciated. :)
> 
> P.S. You can find me @ mightyjemma on tumblr.

* * *

 

prompt: fitzsimmons + "things you said when we were the happiest we ever were" please!

 

* * *

**#1**

 "I love you.“ Fitz says, worshiping her body with kisses under the silvery light of a full moon, the stars watching upon them.

“I know.” Simmons replies, a smile tucking at the corner of her lips. Butterflies and fire churn in the pit of her stomach.

He stops at her bellybutton, pouting a little. “Did you watch ‘Star Wars’ with Bobbi again?”

“Maybe, Leia, maybe.”

His fingers skip over the sensitive skin of her ribs, soft yet determined, until she wreathes under his touch.

“You’re being a tease, Simmons. That’s not nice.”

“I love you too. But please stop tickling me.”

 

**#2**

“Can you believe we actually did that?”

“Coulson never lets us on a break ever again.”

“Skye is going to be heartbroken.”

“She’ll bribe us into another wedding, just for the sake of watching us getting married.”

“We’re married.” Jemma whispers, their very own private secret, only theirs.

“We are.” Fitz repeats.

The smile at each other for a what feels like an eternity, until Jemma breaks the moment to plant a kiss on his lips. 

 

**#3**

The room is silent, except for Jemma’s quiet snoring. Her hair is still a little damp, strands falling into her face. Fitz tries to alternate his attention between her and the little bundle in his arms.

“Your mother says you’re going to follow her footsteps, because you’re girl. But girls can be engineers too. I bet you’ll make a great engineer.”

He whispers the word ‘engineer’ several more times, but his daughter is fast asleep, completely oblivious to her father’s words.

“You know I can hear you, Fitz. Stop corrupting our newborn daughter.”

 


	2. things you said too quietly

* * *

 

prompt: fitz/simmons + things you said too quietly

 

* * *

 

 _what if i’m not enough,_ Fitz asks, his hands shaking to the beat of his too fast pulse, not expecting an answer. 

 _not good enough,_ he adds, as if it is necessary.

His words are swallowed but the pitch-black darkness. He’d be afraid, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s survived worse, for the knowledge of the warm shape pressed to his side. His words sound hollow, trapped in his ribcage. 

_i’m scared of failing, of becoming him._

The shadow of a man neither of them ever met hangs in the air, still present in his life when he left so soon. 

Her eyes open, warm hazel amidst an ocean of darkness. She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing away salty tears, coming closer closer closer.

 _i’m afraid_ , he whispers against her mouth, tasting of peppermint tooth paste and home, finding salvation in the feeling of her lips against his.

Jemma takes his trembling hands in hers, she’s a stabilizing framework built all around him, guiding them to her still flat stomach, home to their most precious invention. 

 _you’re everything i ever wanted._ _you are all_   _we’ll ever need. you’re more than enough._

 


	3. things you said when you thought i was asleep

* * *

 

prompt: fitzsimmons + things you said when you thought i was asleep 

 

* * *

 

 

Sleep is a peaceful state, a quiet state, necessary for every human being. Sleep is filled with dreams and tranquility, but it’s not endless, not unlimited. You can always wake up from it.

So Jemma tells herself that Fitz is only asleep, only too stubborn to wake up. If she tells herself it’s only sleep, she won’t go insane. Because where coma sounds desperate and hopeless, sleep does not.

So she tells herself he’s just fast asleep.

Her hands are wrapped around his wrists, feeling the pulse she can also see visualized on the monitors. His skin is pale, but not unnaturally so. Fitz has never had a good tan.

Jemma has searched the whole world wide web for a solution, for what she has to say to wake him up. As if there exists a secret magic spell to bring him back,  _abraca - hewhoshallnotbenamed didn’t push the button - dabra, hocus - there was enough oxygen for the two of us - pocus._

But there is nothing, so she simply talks, about everything and nothing. She remembers their time at the academy and in their lab, how they became friends and movies they’ve watched together. She talks about her research and science, about his mom and the dog he’d had, the one she’d once met before he’d died of old age.

(Though she never talks about the man whose name is forbidden to speak or even thought, doesn’t talk about what if.) 

Jemma talks so she doesn’t have to face reality. She can see reality mirrored in the tired eyes of her team members, can see behind their fake, hopeful smiles. Their expressions tell enough.

But she does as they do, fakes a smile of hope, while the circles under her eyes grow darker and her skin paler, while she gets thinner and thinner and her own sleeping pattern is microsleep combined with nightmares.

But she keeps talking.

For nine days, Jemma talks and waits, whispers  _please wake up please come back please don’t leave me_ , until his sleep finally ends.

 


	4. things you didn’t say at all

* * *

 

prompt: things you didn’t say at all & fs 

 

* * *

 

 

_i._

“You’re my best friend in the world!”

“Yeah, and you’re more than that, Jemma. I couldn’t find the courage to tell you. So, please… let me show you.”

Let me show, how much I love you.

I’d rather die than live without you.

If there’s only air for one, it should be yours.

And he pushes the button.

 

_ii._

The words are jumbled. Like the tiles in a Scrabble game. Letters and letters without meaning, incoherent.

He wants to scream, but he doesn’t know how.

She holds his hand, her eyes so bright, so hopeful.

He’d tell her to go and forget him, he’s just a broken man. Unworthy.

But he can’t.

 

_iii._

The words come back, slowly at first, but they come back. (Just like she does.)

She comes back, different, but she comes back. (Just like his voice.)

People avoid them when they’re in the same room, sensing the tension. The lab techs run for their lives.

He shouts a lot, loud and uncalled, and she doesn’t answer. He shouts and accuses, with the new broken voice at his new - old - different - best friend.

But some words he holds back, out of fear of what he might hear.

‘Why’ is one of those words.

Why did you leave?

_(Why did you come back?)_

 

_iv._

She thanks him; for holding her, saving her, down in the cave. Her eyes are filled with tears and so are his, mourning the friend they couldn’t save.

He nods, smiles tentatively.

He doesn’t say:

_(I would have died for you all over again.)_

 

_v._

Empty words as a masquerade. They don’t matter, not at all. Their looks could kill, they hurt even if they aren’t real.

Only they know what they’re talking about. 

They don’t need words to communicate.

Bobbi and Mack don’t know. But they will learn.

This time he’s the one to leave, with bad blood between them. But it’s not real, he reminds himself.

The message reminds him too.

_(Be safe! - Love, Jemma.)_

_\+ vi. (the things you said)_

“Maybe there is.”

(“I love you.”)


	5. ‘My uncle kidnapped you because your family is rich and we’re poor so I end up patching you up fuck you bleed a lot’

* * *

27\. ‘My uncle kidnapped you because your family is rich and we’re poor so I end up patching you up fuck you bleed a lot’ 

* * *

Jemma’s not sure how in hell she ended up here, but it’s all Uncle Garrett’s fault, she’s sure about that. “Would be please stop bleeding?”

“Do you think I do it on purpose?” The hostage whines through gritted teeth as her hands press the dressing to the bleeding wound. “Human bodies bleed when you shoot at them!” He almost screams at her.

“It was an accident. He didn’t mean to shoot you.”  _You’re not really useful anymore if you die_ , she thinks. This guy’s mother had more money than anybody could spend in their lifetime and she’d want her son back alive. They needed money and they needed him to survive. “And just because I’m not a real doctor doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

She’d been into pharmacy, before they had lost pretty much everything. (Also Uncle Garrett’s fault.) Jemma’s still into pharmacy - it’s just the darker, dirtier less legal side of it.

“Oh, I noticed. Real doctors are more skilled.” Does he smirk at her? “I’m Fitz, by the way.”

“Be grateful and shut up. My name’s Jemma.”


	6. “you sit across from me in class and every morning you stare me down whilst eating a banana” AU

Leopold Fitz hates Jemma Simmons. Well, not really. But he likes to tell himself he hates her. Nobody understands him, not even his friends Mack and Hunter. Especially not them. Even if there are so many obvious reasons to hate her.

She’s too smart, too pretty, too funny, too healthy, too everything, sitting right across from him in class, directly in his visual field. So yes, he really totally definitely hates her. But this is not what drives him up the wall. It’s the fact she hates him too. She has too. Because Jemma Simmons must want him to go insane.

He doesn’t even really remember when it started, he only knows he  _(never)_ wants her to stop. Every morning, just after he arrives, 15 minutes before class starts, she starts eating her breakfast. And it’s always a goddamn banana.

Fitz has tried every trick in the book to stop staring at her, he really has. But he can’t. He’s under her spell. He even tried to catch the earlier bus or arrive later, but it doesn’t matter, not to her. She starts eating the stupid banana and he watches with his mouth wide open and his brain is empty.

Their first college year is almost over before something changes. Fitz arrives in class, but Jemma isn’t eating anything. She simply stares at him, smiling brightly and waits for him to sit down. There is a banana on his desk, with something carved into the peel, those parts already black.

_Do you mind if I eat your banana? xoxo_

He almost chokes on his spit.


	7. 'we get the same train to work every morning and you always take the good seat so i glare at you until you let me sit there' AU

Jemma braided her hair into a French braid, put on some lip gloss and then practiced her death glare in front of the mirror. The latter was just as important as the first two tasks, i not more. After all her physical health was at stakes. When she was sure she could reach the perfect level of intimidation, she put on her coat and made her way to the train station.

And of course, just like any other day, the seat occupier was already sitting in her seat. Oh, how much she despised him. Her station was pretty close to the end station, so most of the carriages were already full, but not this one. It had the perfect seat, at the window and facing the engine. She loved it.

It had always been vacant, until two months ago. Two months ago the blue eyed man had appeared. And now he was the one sitting in her perfect seat. She couldn’t let that  stand. Jemma sat down opposite of him, cleared her throat and started staring at him with her death glare.

The first few times, the man with the big-blue-beautiful eyes had been completely oblivious, but by now he knew what was coming. He looked up, directly at her and smiled softly. He hadn’t shaved today, Jemma realized.

“You know, you don’t have to glare at me like you’re the queen of hell? I know you and your unhealthy obsession with this seat by now.”

“But it’s funnier this way.” Jemma answered and grinned wickedly. Another battle won. “Now get up, I’m getting sick here.”


	8. fitz asking her to go on a date with him even though he is still bleeding to death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to chapter 5 | 27. ‘My uncle kidnapped you because your family is rich and we’re poor so I end up patching you up fuck you bleed a lot

“Go out with me.”

Maybe it’s the stress situation or she has hallucinations or she’s losing her mind, but Jemma is rather sure that Fitz just asked her out. Fitz, the guy they hold as hostage. Fitz, who is spilling a dangerous amount of blood on her clothes. “What?”

“This is like Westside Story. Or Romeo and Juliet, you know? Very romantic. We should really go out.”

“You are in shock. This is the blood loss talking right now, not you. Have you even read Romeo and Juliet? They die in the end. And now be still. I have to make sure you don’t die.”

Fitz tries to shrug, but it looks more like a caterpillar moving forward. “Don’t care. But if I survive you’ll got out with me, right?" 

His words are slightly slurred and his eyes barely open anymore. Jemma searches for a heartbeat. She finds one, but it’s frenzy and irregular. His skin is clam and cold. There’s too much blood.

Jemma swallows hard. She doesn’t even now him, he’s just her uncle’s pawn to demand ransom. But she can’t let him die. "Yes, I’ll go out with you after this is over.” she promises. And she means it.


	9. I’m a super villain and you’re a therapist I kidnapped bc I need someone to talk to au

Fitz had been on a short lunch break, thirty minutes with his beloved prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich. That had been 9 days ago. Now he was sitting in a very bad-lit lair, opposite of a very attractive woman. He knew her, everyone did. The Infamous Biochemist.

Her reputation preceded her. She was by far the smartest, most successful villain terrorizing New York City. And now she had chosen him as her newest victim. The Biochemist - Jemma. She had offered him to call her Jemma.

“Do you have family?” She asked, breaking the silence.

“Only my Mom. But she lives in Scotland and we don’t talk too often. She won’t notice I’m gone, at least not rightaway.”

Jemma looked up in surprise. “That’s not what I meant. I’d just love to get to know you, to talk to you. That’s why I kidnapped you.”

“You need a therapist.” Fitz said, not for the first time since she had kidnapped him. Honestly, which super villain wanted to talk? To him, of all people?

“You are a therapist, Leopold.” He groaned in frustration. Jemma smiled at him sadly, but it soon faltered completely. “I feel lonely.”

Fitz stayed silent, simply listened to what she was saying. He didn’t understand.

“I like what I’m doing.” Jemma continued. “People just don’t understand it, you know? There’s nobody who listens. I thought maybe you’d —”

“Maybe, if you could get me a prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich, we could talk over lunch. I was about to eat mine, but then you kidnapped me and I still want one.”

Jemma beamed at him with a bright smile. “A great idea! I have some homemade pesto aioli left, I’m sure it could improve your sandwich.”

Fitz nodded. This was the start of a very strange adventure, he thought.

 


	10. "we're the only ones on campus who didn't go home for christmas"

The whole world is white and silent, covered under a blanket of soft snow. It’s not a cold winter, far from it, but it’s chilly enough for the snow to stick. An impressive Christmas Tree decorated with lights shines in front of their dorm. It’s quiet, with pretty much only them left at the Academy. There are a few other students left, but he can count them on two hands and they’re not from their year.

Fitz secretly wishes he could go home and celebrate Christmas with his Mum, but that’s not going to happen, money-wise. He also kind of wishes that Simmons would stop lying and just outright tell him she stayed behind for him and not because she didn’t have the money to go home either. But he knows she’s lying and she knows that he knows she’s lying, so maybe it’s okay. Because it’s Christmas. Because they are friends now.

“Are you ready?” Her eyes shine as bright as Christmas lights, a warm spark glowing inside them. The sun is going down already, but it doesn’t matter. It’s way more fun in the dark anyway. He nods. He still can’t quite believe he’s friends with somebody who understands him so well.

They’re at the hills behind the Academy grounds. They sit down on their respective sleighs, which he might have modified so they’d b a little faster. Really, where was the fun being genius engineer if he couldn’t have some fun in his free time?

“Winner gets to pick dinner.” he says and Simmons laughs in agreement. They get ready for their race and Fitz thinks that maybe a Christmas like this is just as good either. He could definitely get used to it.


	11. things you said you loved about me

the sun rising on your face every day with  
a smile as bright as gold and silver and burning magnesium

your eyes, carved out of smouldering embers  
holding the knowledge of the universe inside and more

the freckles on your right shoulder  
mapping constellations of stars we have yet to discover

your touch so light, barely reaching my nerves  
feathers and sunshine and electricity, all at once

the scars on your body and the scars on your soul  
after all that has been, because you’ve been beside me the whole damn time

you  
all you are and all you were and all you’ll ever be


	12. things you said with no space between us

“Are you scared?” He asks, his warm breath ghosting over her neck. “Because I am.” Fitz says those words so very quietly, so very carefully. Like he is afraid to admit them, like he is ashamed.

Jemma would like to take his hand and tell him that everything would be alright. But she can’t move her hands and she can’t lie, not here, not now. “Me too.” She says instead, trying to even her breaths.

The janitor’s closet they’re locked in, is so small and there’s barely any fresh air and it feels like being trapped in the box again. It’s not, she knows rationally, but it feels the same and in her mind that’s all that counts. Her heart races, powered by adrenaline. The zipties around her wrists are way too tight, the skin already broken, sore and open.

“I hate HYDRA.”

“You don’t say, Fitz.”

“Just stating it for the protocol.”

She almost snorts. “What protocol? I’m not exactly taking notes here.”

Fitz laughs, a little at least. There’s not a single ray of light anywhere, not even some glow under the door. There’s nothing except utter darkness and their warm bodies pressed together in the too small space.

They’re silent for a long moment, before he clears his throat. “Is this a bad timing to tell you that I love you?”

“Do you want to say it because you think we’re going to die? Or are you saying it for the protocol? Because I swear, if it’s the first —”

“I’m saying it, because I mean it, Jemma.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

Jemma breaths out. “I love you too.”

“We’re going to be alright.”

“Yes. I know.”


	13. things you said that made me feel real

He hadn’t known.

It’s not an excuse, far from it, and Fitz desperately wishes he didn’t have to say so. But he can’t change his past mistakes, only try to not do any further harm. Still —

She hadn’t said anything and he hadn’t asked.

Fitz opens his eyes and blinks into the night. He always wakes before her, even though he usually sleeps like the dead. But it is different, now that Jemma is sleeping next to him every night. He can feel the change in her breathing. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s enough to alert him.

Fitz switches on the bedside light and watches Jemma and the pained expression on her face. Some nights are better than others, some nights the demons don’t find her. Tonight’s not one of those better nights.

Jemma never moves violently, she never screams, at least not out loud. She cries in her sleep, quietly, and Fitz wishes he could prevent those nightmares that plague her too much.

Wishes she had said something earlier.

He pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her body, while she silently sobs into his chest. They do this a lot now. It seems to help. At least Jemma says it does, Fitz is not so sure. But she wouldn’t lie, he thinks, not when they’ve promised each other brutal honesty, so he keeps her close and rubs soothing circles into her back while the waves of the past wash over them and they try not to drown.

“We’ll be okay.” Fitz whispers against the storm, into her skin, anchoring her to reality. 

(And he hopes it’s true.)


	14. things you said before + after you kissed me

kiss #1 (S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, 2005)

I’m really - really - drunk.  
Me too, Simmons.

-

That was nice.  
Hmm.

 

kiss #1 (Playground, 2015)

You’ve got some chocolate mousse —  
Where?  
Right there, corner of your mouth. Here let me —

-

Wow.  
Yeah. Wow.  
We should do that more often.

 

kiss #1 (Hospital, 2016)

You’re an idiot. Don’t die again.

-

I’m sorry. I won’t, I promise.

 

kiss #1 (Hospital, 2018)

She’s got your eyes.  
All baby’s have blue eyes, Jemma.  
I’m a biochemist, trust me, I know.

-

You can't silence me with your mouth, Fitz. Now give me my child back.

 

kiss #1 (Church, 2022)

We don’t really do the milestones in the correct order, hm?

-

I like our order way better, Mr. Simmons.  
Jemma, no.

 

{kiss #1 (Their home, 2081)

You always had to be the first to go, you stubborn idiot.

-

I’ll see you soon.}


	15. things you said in the spur of the moment

Their voices are so loud, extraterrestrial beings must be able to hear them scream. Their voices are so desperate, laced with tears and fears and all the broken fragments in between. Their voices are so angry, they feel like punches to the gut and blood boiling, volcanoes in their own right.

“I don’t care what happens to me. I only care about you.”

The silence that follows is too heavy for words. It’s the kind of silence that stays long after the words have long gone, the one you remember forever when your heart is beating and you don’t how you’re still breathing.

They should’ve had this conversation a long time ago, Jemma thinks, but they have it now. It’s not even that, it’s a battle, fought with bitterness and hurt and all those miles they’ve brought between them, since she took his body from the hands of the sea and home with her.

He stands there, tears in his eyes, telling her his life doesn’t matter and she wants to slap him in the face and claw his eyes out and scream until her voice gives out and and and —

But she can’t. Because this is Fitz, her Fitz, her best friend.

And she can’t do all of those things, because she is hypocrite herself, the halo above her head broken the day she jumped out of the airplane. She understands, because she’d do the same in the blink of an eye, again always forever.

“I know.” She finally says, as his hands wipe away the tears she spills. “But it matters to me, what happens to you. You have to understand.”

Fitz nods slowly. His hands are shaking, but it doesn’t matter, because she is there to steady them on the bad days, like this is one of them.

Their voices are silent now, trying not to break the fragile peace they’ve made. It’s an olive branch, his tiny nod and her pleading words.. But it’s all they can give, because they might be humans, but they are also supernovas and burning stars and black holes, elements and atoms and whole universes in too small bodies.

The sea has calmed around them and there is a bright light guiding them towards the surface. (It always does. There always is.)


	16. things you said as we danced in our socks

It’s bitterly cold, the temperatures are so far below the freezing point it should be illegal. Neither Fitz nor Jemma want to set a foot outside, so they simply decide to stay inside for the time being. There are worse ways to spend the Christmas holidays, especially since it’s the first in their new house.

They have tea, enough to fill the huge bathroom on the first floor with it, and Jemma had baked - triple chocolate cupcakes with caramel buttercream frosting. The world outside could freeze as much as it wanted to, it could stop turning, for all they cared, they are content.

Because - Jemma thinks as she puts some her books from one of the moving boxes into the book shelf - they deserve this. After all they have been through and after all they have lost, after all the ups and downs, it feels good to have a place that is theirs. This house, it only belongs to them and it’s home.

A cheesy Christmas song echoes through the living room all of the sudden, a little too late now, that Christmas is almost over, and warm hands wrap around her middle from behind.

“I’m trying to make this house habitable, Fitz.” Jemma says, only a little scolding. She leans into his embrace, while his mouth kisses her jaw - her neck - that spot beneath her ear and he hums in agreement.

Usually Jemma’s not too keen on having hickeys all over her skin where everybody can see them, but it’s so cold she wears a scarf all the time anyway and she lets him do it, because it makes Fitz happy the way cavemen are happy about fire and the thought makes her giddy with happiness too.

They slowly dance to the tune of the song, gliding over the hardwood floor only in their socks. Jemma turns around until they are eye to eye. Fitz looks at her with a bright smile and bright eyes and she can’t help but think that this is where they were always supposed to be, no matter how they got here.

She puts a kiss to his lips, so soft and warm and full of love, the whole world around them melts.


	17. adventures

At the tender age of 6, adventure means a great deal of things for Jemma Simmons. She imagines different worlds when she’s looking down the microscope or watches the movement of the stars through her telescope. She thinks that one day, she is going to rule the world with science and they’ll name new species in honour of her.

Six year old Jemma Simmons aspires to be great, and she wants to see the world. Adventure means leaving behind what she knows and discover the unknown.

 

-

 

Young Leopold Fitz wants to build dragons out of metal and fight his battles with the weapon he knows best - the screwdriver. But he knows that this world is not made for boys as smart as him. Adventures aren’t made for boys like him.

 

-

 

She has more questions than her country can answer her and it’s simply not enough. Jemma wants more. And this is why she leaves.

 

-

 

It’s the biggest adventure of his life, going away and leaving behind the only family he’s ever had. His mom tells him how proud she is almost hourly and he tries to smile a little more for her. 

Fitz is afraid, of being alone, of being lonely. He isn’t somebody to cross the ocean and grow new roots on a different continent.

Adventures are for brave men and he is not one of them. He starts the journey anyway, being brave for somebody else, the first time of many more to come.

 

-

 

They meet in chemistry kinetics, nothing but strangers. 

They don’t know - yet - but this, this is going to be their biggest adventure. It’s going to span decades and their children and their children’s children will live tell their stories.

They don’t know - yet - how they’re about to become heroes, their deeds spun into myths and tragedies.

They don’t know - yet - what is about to be.

 

-

 

At the age of 26 adventure means flying high and never touching down, always chasing the next sunrise and the next mystery. 

And Jemma smiles, because this is what she always wanted, this are her dreams come true, and Fitz smiles, because this can be good, it can be right, and he is right there, watching Jemma smile.

 

-

 

They’re still 26, but adventure is a different word now, turned stale and bitter. It’s coated in blood and cut into pieces.

Adventure is a loaded gun, pressed to their skulls and a box without oxygen filled with sea water instead, and broken words, and shaking hands, and friends with two heads —

Jemma doesn’t dream about adventures anymore.

 

-

 

It takes time and effort. 

It takes them far too long and it demands so much from them, but in the end - in the end - they reclaim it again; adventure, their adventure. 

They take the word and run with it, make it theirs in ever possible way.

 

-

 

Adventure means a shotgun wedding right between his birthdays, when Fitz is already 30 and Jemma still 29 - because he always wanted a younger wife and she hits his upper arm, in a country, with a name they don’t even remember, and all the people that matter, all the people they’ve found on their way, as their witnesses.

It means being scared shitless, when the stick turns blue out of nowhere and figuring it out anyway. It means crying tears of joy, with this small bundle, equal parts of both of them, in their arms. It means sleepless nights and proud smiles. 

Fitz remembers how his mother used to smile at him, replicating it for his child. Jemma remembers how her parents used to explain the universe to her, and so she does the same.

Adventure means growing old together and discovering a different world every day. Maybe it’s not what they might have dreamed about, but it’s even better.

It means they’re together.

Adventure means that they wake up and don’t know what kind of day it is going to be, because they both have their demons and sometimes those win for a short time.

It means that they make it work anyway.


	18. All my intel said you’re not meant to be back until next week and I’m sitting here using your flat as a sniper nest to kill a bad guy. This is awkward.

It was just past 1am when somebody inserted a key into the lock of the front door. Jemma quickly jumped to her feet, gun raised, all of her senses on high alert. This was not part of her plan.

She had spent the better part of the last few days waiting for the arrival of the head of HYDRA so she could put a bullet through his head. The flat was the ideal place to wait. The windows gave her the perfect vantage point at their hideout. Unfortunately Garrett hadn’t shown up yet.

It was a small, but nice flat. The short hallway directly led into the living room with an open kitchen. One bathroom, one bedroom. A fire escape, in case needed to make a quick exit. It was perfect. She liked it here.

Jemma tip - toed closer to the door, carefully hiding in the shadows. According to the owner’s travel data he should be gone for another week. So either something had changed or the enemy had caught wind of their operation.

Though the enemy usually didn’t use keys.

She’d need to have a word with Daisy passing on information.

The door opened and light spilled into the darkened room. Jemma considered the fireladder, but she rather didn’t want to use it. It would cost her the perfect sniper spot and all of her stuff was still here. She couldn’t leave now.

A man entered the flat, pulling a suitcase behind him. He turned on the lights and noticed her immediately. They stared at each other like deer in the headlights. She didn’t know which of them was the deer and which one the car.

Usually Jemma was faster.

She was the the very best.

If she ran up to him now and put enough pressure on certain nerves in his nerves, he’d be out long enough for her to do her job. But something about him let her stop.

“What are you doing here?” She asked to break the silence. The irony of her words weren’t lost on her.

“I’m living here”

“You’re Fitz?”

He nodded. She lowered her gun.

Jemma had heard a lot about the owner of the perfect flat. So much in fact, that she was almost sure she knew him her whole life. Child prodigy, just like herself, MIT, engineering.

But while he had chosen Stark Industries and legal options for using his intellect, Jemma had found herself with SHIELD, a private organisation specialized on liquidating the ‘bad guys’. She enjoyed her job.

“I’m one of the good guys.” Jemma assured, because she felt like she should. But the man raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on the sniper rifle on the window sill behind her. “I really am.”

“Ever heard of HYDRA?”

“Unfortunately yes.” He hang up his coat, not letting her out of sight once. “Had an unpleasant encounter with them once.”

Oh, Jemma knew. That’s why she had mentioned it. She staked everything on one card. “I need to kill their leader. Your flat is the perfect sniper nest.”

Fitz came closer now. He licked over his lips and Jemma stopped breathing for a few seconds, before she recovered herself.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She hadn’t expected him to agree right away.

“Yes.”

Fitz headed straight to the couch and sat down.

“How long will it take?”

Jemma counted the days, did some calculations. “Few more days at most.”

He nodded again. Jemma sat down on the chair in front of the window and alternately watched the hideout and Fitz. They sat together in silence for an hour, until Daisy called and told her that Garrett wouldn’t come today. Jemma stifled a yawn.

“I’m gonna take a short nap if that’s alright.”

“Sure. Where have you slept?”

Jemma blushed bright red and developed a sudden interest in the floor. “Your bed. The couch is bad for my neck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.“ He said and when Jemma finally looked up again, she found him blushing as well.

She was almost in his bedroom, when she remembered her most important discovery during her first day here. So Jemma turned around.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mess?”

“Excuse me?”

She nodded determinedly. “Yes, excuse you. The clothes basket is overflowing. Do you ever iron anything? And we should talk about your eating habits.”

“My eating habits?” He asked dumbfounded.

“Yes. You’re gonna have a heart attack at the age of 45 if you continue like this. Where are the vegetables?”

Fitz narrowed his eyes. “Not a big fan of it.” he said

“You should start to be.”

“Didn’t you want to sleep?” He asked mischievously, changing the topic.

“Just saying. Don’t want you to die on me.”

—

It took three more days.

Jemma didn’t dare to say it out loud, but it was the best job she had ever taken. Fitz was good company, great company. They talked about his work in the engineer department and her job as a paid killer and about literally anything.

She even made him eat some salad.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she might be falling for him.

Garrett arrived at the hideout eventually. Fitz didn’t even flinch when she pulled the trigger and Daisy announced him dead over the comms.

“I’m almost sad it’s done. Your flat’s great.” Jemma said. She packed together the last of her things and stowed them away in a bag.

It wasn’t the only reason for her melancholy. During the last few days she had started to warm up to Fitz and she didn’t want to leave.

“We could — I could get breakfast. You could stay.” Fitz offered.

Jemma turned towards him. He fumbled with his hands nervously, waiting for her answer. She put on her brightest smile.

“I’d like that.”


	19. I knew I'd find you here

“I’m quite predictable, huh?” Jemma tries to smile, but even she can feel just how fake it is, so she lets it fall.

“Do you want company?” Fitz asks carefully. He doesn’t enter the lab, only watches her sitting on the floor and rearranging the chemicals from a safe distance.

Does she?

Her head is empty and a tornado of thoughts at the same time. There are words, coming from somewhere, but they don’t have context. 

Will is gone and he won’t come back. His body is forever trapped on the planet, he’ll never find peace. This is her most prominent thought. He won’t come home.

At least Fitz came home unharmed. The one constant not taken away from her, her fixed star. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to.”

Jemma nods, biting back tears once again. Her hands tremble like aspen leaves, but she keeps sorting the bottles and containers anyway. It’s mindless, it’s all she can do now.

Fitz kneels down and sits next to her on the floor for hours. They don’t talk single word. It’s only their breathing, the sound of their clothes rustling. joints cracking from shifting in different positions.

Her body hurts and she gets cold, just sitting like that, but they don’t talk and they don’t leave, only bask in each others presence.

They are far from being alright, but it is a beginning. Somehow. One day.


	20. Tarantism - The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing

The music is so damn loud, it vibrates in her spine and she thinks it might even change the rhythm her heartbeat. Sweat runs down her back.

She doesn’t mind at all.

Jemma can’t hear a single word of what Bobbi is saying, but she reads the word ‘outside’ from her lips. Bobbi then points at Lance, barely able to stand upright, the signs of intoxication showing evidently on his face.

“I’ll take him outside for a moment.” Bobbi tries again, screaming against synthesizer sounds.

Jemma nods sympathetically.

She isn’t sober herself, hasn’t been for a few hours. Tomorrow her head will probably kill her, but tonight it’s worth it. It had been Bobbi’s idea, getting away from the base, taking their minds off of things.

They haven’t been to excited about it first, but went with it anyway. 

The club is somewhat dark and shabby, but aren’t they either? Shells of people that once were human? It doesn’t to them, the drinks are cheap and nobody shots them a second look.

Her gaze searches through the crowd, until she finds Fitz and Daisy at the bar near. Daisy looks a little shaky on her feet as well.

“I wanna dance.” Jemma announces loudly, words only a little slurred.

Daisy grins. “I’ll pass up this time. Take him.”

“I don’t dance.” Fitz protests unsuccessfully. 

“You do.” Jemma wraps her slender fingers around his wrist and tugs him towards the dance floor. The current song is slower and sadder, uncharacteristic for this kind of club.

A sudden tiredness, the need for physical closeness, washes over her, buries her at the bottom of the ocean. Jemma rests her forehead on his shoulder, eyes closed. Her arms clinging around his back. Fitz puts his hands on her waist.

They sway like this together, out of rhythm, completely oblivious to all the other people around them. It’s only them and they are so tired. The exhaustion has burned them up entirely, like supernovae. They are dying stars in a collapsing constellation. 

The song ends, replaced by something faster and louder.

Fitz pulls away and takes one of her hands to spin her around. The strobe light paints the club in neon lights. Everything turns and turns and turns.

It’s a never - ending carousel ride, bright lights and loud sounds. She feels her heart beating in her chest, wild and free. She feels a smile on her face and she sees the echo of it on Fitz’s face.

It’s a carefree emotion, just pure and unspoiled joy.

Tomorrow they’ll face their debts again, the guilt they have accumulated. But not tonight.

They are nebulae, clouds of star dust and hydrogen. They’ll shine again.


	21. Basorexia - An overwhelming desire to kiss |  Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU in which Jemma is a successful actress and Fitz is her PR agent.

If today is going to end in a utter disaster, (and it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possible outcomes for this day, another one in the week of hell), at least he gets to see her one last time.

Scenario 1: His boss will fire him. (Bad, but manageable.)

Scenario 2: Jemma will fire him. (Worse AND humiliating.)

Scenario 3: He might die if he has to look at her fuchsia - coloured lips for another second without being to kiss her. (Worst, but better than being unprofessional and just giving in and kiss her.)

Fitz pinches the bridge of his nose. Their meeting is already taking the better part of the afternoon. He can see the first signs of the sunset, the sky turning rosy on the horizon.

“Okay, it’s not like I don’t like you all, because I do.” Jemma looks around, smiling at Daisy, Trip and him.

(Fitz thinks she lingers at him a little longer than the others, but he might be hallucinating. He’s on his sixth cup of coffee today. Colours have never been so vibrant.)

“But it has been a long day and I just don’t get it. What is the problem with tabloids thinking I’m having an affair with my bodyguard? We all know I’m not the one sleeping with Trip.” She gives Daisy a long, hard look. The woman in question only grins.

“The Asgardian Virus comes out in two months.” Fitz explains, again.

“So, it’s just another one of my movies.”

“You might be nominated for an Oscar.”

Jemma raises a well - plucked eyebrow. “So?”

“People are more likely to watch a movie, if they think the actors playing the main characters are — friendly with each other. A relationship, with anybody, would look bad.”

“If I might add something: That’s just plain stupid.” Daisy says. 

“I second that.” Trip agrees.

“See?”

Fitz groans, hitting his head on the cool desk. “You are level - headed, intelligent people. Of course you see it like that. The public as a whole is bloody stupid. If we give no comment, they’ll think there is a relationship. If we deny it, they’ll just send more paparazzi.”

Jemma nods thoughtfully. Her expression “I hate this. I love acting, but the job is —”

“I know.”

“What’s the best course of action?”

“Put out a statement that you are not in relationship with Trip, value him as your bodyguard and friend blah blah. And we say that you won’t answer any further questions on your private life. I’ll think about something. I’ll write something later and send it to Daisy immediately. She can put it on your website by tomorrow.”

“That’s it?”

Fitz hums in response.

“Then we’re finally done? Thank god, I am starving. Wanna grab some dinner and have a nice evening?” Daisy proposes.

“Sure.”

“Sounds good.” 

“I’m in.”

“I’m getting the car. Are you coming with me Daisy? We’ll met you two down in the lobby.” Trip pretends all too innocently. 

He at least weakly tries to hide his attempts at match - making, Daisy just winks at them obviously. God, how much he hates them both.

Alone in the room the tension rises to a new high.

“Thank you. For taking care of this.” Jemma suddenly says. She brushes a strand of her hair brown hair behind her ear. Fitz has never seen a more beautiful woman. He is so distracted he almost forgets to answer her.

“It’s my job.”

“Still — Thank you.”

He wants to open the door for her, but suddenly she pins him against it.

Their eyes lock. He’s not the tallest man himself, but Jemma is still a good deal smaller then him. Yet their current position puts their mouths at almost the same level.

If he leaned down just the tiniest bit, he’d be kissing her. And he wants to, wanted it since the day he met her.

“What would my PR agent say if I had an affair with my PR agent?

Fitz swallows. Hard. “He’d say it’s a bad idea. Unprofessional even.”

“And what would you say?” Her voice is throaty and he thinks his brain is going to short circuit any moment.

“I’d really really like to kiss you right now.” 

Jemma wets her lips with her tongue and nods her approval. His mouth meets hers and every thought he has leaves his head. This is what he always wanted and more.

Her lips are soft against his. His hands are at the small of her back, while her hands brush over the stubble on his cheeks. They fit together perfectly. 

If he’s going to be fired for this, it’ll be worth it.


	22. The man from Uncle AU

“Simmons.” 

Fitz didn’t expect the stealthy, but hurtful elbow to his ribs. “Ouch. Aren’t you supposed to be my fiancee? Fiancee’s don’t punch their significant other.”

“Then don’t use my real name. Do you want to blow our covers?”

“Sorry.” He mumbled under his breath. Truth be told, he was only a man. And Jemma in her evening gown was a sight to behold. It was more transparent than not - black lace, V - shaped open back and a ribbon at the small of her back. Jemma looked otherworldly.

He had once been the best agent The Academy had ever seen, still was, but the fierce mechanic with the soft hands, rendered him completely useless.

“Earth to Fitz? Are you in there?” Jemma squeezed his wrist lightly, he felt her fingertips over his pulse point.

“You look beautiful.” He suddenly blurted out, any connection between his brain and his mouth long gone.

Jemma blushed, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” 

Watching from the other side of the ballroom, Daisy gently shook her head at her two teammates and picked up another flute of champagne from a tablet. This was going to be a long evening.


	23. “we should cuddle… for warmth.”

Jemma doesn’t scream.

Not yet.

She knows she and Fitz bicker constantly, has been told so by countless of their fellow students, even teacher, back then at the academy. It is, because it’s easy.

It is easy to be honest with him, because they are on the same wave length, they work well together, they just — work.

(For years she has thought that she’d never find anybody who would understand her on the same fundamental level and now finally — they work.)

But right now -

“Simmons, look —”

\- she wants his head on a silver plate.

“Fitz, don’t.” It’s a quiet hiss, barely audible for her own ears. It’s the calm before the storm brewing inside her.

“It was an accident.”

“You let it snow in our apartment!” 

Their whole apartment, kitchen and living room is covered in snow. The crystals glitter under the glow of the lamps. The white even covers the dark blue of their couch. There is snow everywhere.

Emphasizing her point she crunches some of it under the sole of her shoes.

“I’m sorry.” Fitz says at last. But his appearance, the fluffy winter jacket and the matching boots don’t give it the credibility the apology needs.

“Is there snow in our bedrooms?”

Silence. “Maybe.”

Jemma huffs, rolling her eyes. Shivers take over her body, the temperatures in the tiny apartment well below the freezing point.

She’s still only wearing the light jacket she went to the lab with earlier. It’s April, and today’s been a particular warm spring day on top of that. But the evenings still get cold and the winter wonderland in her apartment doesn’t much to warm her up.

“At least turn up the heater.”

Fitz shows a sudden interest in his shoes. “The heater’s not working. I needed some parts for the experiment.”

She freezes in her steps. “So we’re living in an igloo without artificial heat? And it’s all your fault?”

“Technically —”

“Leo!”

“I already said I’m sorry.”

Choosing to ignore him, she breezes past him into her room to change into warmer clothes. There’s no snow or ice in her closet and Jemma takes the small victories where she can get them.

The next hours as the late afternoon turns into evening and then bleeds into early night, they spend together shoving the snow into buckets and throwing it out of the window.

“It’s not hazardous for the environment. It’s really only water.” Fitz explains when she asks, and that’s pretty much all she needs to know. It’s also the only words they exchange during the whole ordeal.

They give up around 10pm when there’s little snow left in plain sight and fix themselves a quick dinner. Afterwards they both change into thermal underwear and more layers of clothes, the winter jackets too uncomfortable to sleep in.

“Come on.” Jemma takes all the blankets they own as well as the bedding from her bed and puts it all on his. “We should share the little warmth we have.”

Her suggestion is reasonable, logical. But Jemma secretly hopes she can wipe the sad expression from his face too. She knows it’s not his fault alone, mechanics sometimes just don’t work, and she knows he hates the silent treatment. 

(Fitz has also forgiven her for his sky blue skin after one of her experiments two months ago.)

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Jemma falls onto the soft mattress, surrounded by an infinite amount of blankets. Fitz blinks at her for a few moments, before he turns down the light and crawls into his bed with her.

“So you’re not mad anymore?” He asks into the darkness of the room. 

There is too much space between them. Jemma is still cold, so she scoots up to him until they are chest to chest, her head at his shoulder. His arms wrap around her upper body, his fingers ghosting over her ribs.

“Ask me again tomorrow when I’m not freezing to death anymore and didn’t lose any limbs to frost bite, but no.”

“Because I’m really sorry.”

“I know, Fitz.” 

This is how they fall asleep - wrapped into each other’s arms, sharing the little warmth they have.

(Jemma doesn’t suffer any frost bite that night. But Fitz isn’t allowed any experiments with weather ever again. At least not in their apartment.)


End file.
